


Ice and fire

by fake_royalty69



Category: Hamilton - Miranda
Genre: Child Abuse, Father-Son Relationship, Hamilton - Freeform, Humiliation, Hurt Alexander Hamilton, M/M, Other, Past Rape/Non-con, Pedophilia, Rape tag isn’t about Alex and George, Spanking, Violence, Washingdad, both sexual and non-sexual, it gets bad before it gets... well, it gets darker and darker, it’s dark, worse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-05
Updated: 2020-10-11
Packaged: 2021-03-08 01:47:08
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,408
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26843860
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fake_royalty69/pseuds/fake_royalty69
Summary: He should have known. He should have known that keeping that promise would be impossible. Not for someone like him. There is no unconditional love for an ordinary orphan. Everything has a price, and if he wanted to live in warmth, he had to come to terms with fire.
Relationships: Alexander Hamilton & George Washington, Alexander Hamilton/George Washington, Alexander Hamilton/Original Male Character(s)
Comments: 4
Kudos: 72





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Read tags, please

Alexander is fucked for the first time one year after his mother died.

That night he’s woken up by his own scream. Nightmare. He closed his eyes and seconds later there were cold arms around his body. Not letting him go. They used to be warm and loving not so long time ago. They used to be the safest in the world.

Now he was screaming trapped in their deadly grasp. 

After crossing this very blurry at his state line between dream and wakefulness, he feels other hands on his body. They are warm and bigger than dreamed ones. One of them was on Alexander’s forehead. The others one was pressing on his cheek with affection. Alexander’s eyes slowly got used to the room’s darkness and he managed to distinguish Mr. Stevens’ oval face, a square jaw, a large nose, and small lips which were moving, probably spilling out some words which Alexander wasn't able to understand. 

”Hush, Alex,” he heard finally after a few seconds when the only thing ringing in his ears was his loud, trembling breath. ”Don’t wake up Neddy, please,” asked gently Mr. Stevens.

Slowly Alexander nodded his head. He felt quilt rising and pressure on the mattress. In the next seconds, Mr. Stevens's arms gripped Alexander's body and pulled him close to his chest. Alexander wasn't big fan of how it felt but at the same moment, he adored the way it made him feel. He has never been held by his dad or at least he didn't remember that. 

He could only imagine if it would feel that way. If his dad would also hold him so tight. If he would use his mouth to check Alexander's temperature. If his hand would also slip down Alexander's pants and... 

Oh. 

”Just relax,” whispered Stevens, and Alexander, who has frozen anyway, didn't answer. ”It will help you loosen up. This is how big boys relax. Are you a big boy, Alexander?”

He was. Or at least he thought so. 

He was big. He was big and smart enough to say, that the way in which Stevens was touching him wasn't good and had nothing to do with Alexander being big or grown. 

He stayed quiet regardless. 

”Did you have a bad dream?” asked Stevens. His voice was gentle and soft as if he wanted Alexander to feel safe  as if  his hand wasn't stroking Alexander's cock or as if it was normal for adult men to touch twelve-year-old intimate parts while asking him about nightmares. He could as well brushing Alexander's hair in a comforting gesture. 

”Yes, sir, ” answered Alexander as quiet as he could. His voice must have barely reach Stevens’ ear. 

”Poor thing, ” murmured Stevens, but there was no sympathy in his tone. He didn't feel sorry for Alexander, he didn't want to help. He felt some sick desire and lust toward Alexander's body and there was no place for anything except fulfilling it. ”Do you want me to make you feel better?”

No , Alexander wanted to say a long time before the question got asked. His voice, however, stuck in his throat, when Stevens’ hand got removed from his cock and reached between his buttocks instead. 

It didn't make him feel good. It made him burning. It set a fire inside him. It incinerated his lungs and stomach, and heart, and head. 

Shame. Terrible humiliation grew inside of him making him less and less alive and more frigid every second. 

When Stevens’ finger slipped into Alex's body and man’s tongue was pushed down his ear, he felt like burning alive. 

When months later he's lying on the bed in the foster care system, he's dead cold. 

And he kinda misses being on fire. 

~*~

Washington’s house is good , thought Alexander.  Good at keeping up appearances , he added bitterly. 

He was there for one month. Both Mr. and Mrs. Washington has been nothing but nice to him, but Alexander wasn't foolish. He was just waiting for them to quit acting. Them or one of Martha's children. 

She had two. None of them was Washington's biological kid. And they all were adults, but it didn't stop them from showing up every weekend in the house. 

The older one was a son, John, or Jack as everyone was calling him. Six years older than Alexander, twenty-two by the first time Alex saw him. Nice, but cold and distanced. Martha was next, twenty years old. She tried to connect with Alex more than anyone in his life before. She was studying psychology, maybe that's why. That's what Alex presumed. Their father died sixteen years ago, so the exact year Alex was born.

Martha was nice. Or at least she tried to. Alexander did not manage to like her. He didn't like how insistently she tried to replace his mother. Kissing on the forehead, stroking the head, adjusting the collar of the school uniform shirt. Alexander never confessed how much it bothered him. His behavioral instincts did not allow him, and the fear of her husband did not allow him to even glance at the woman. 

He did not like women. Usually. He didn't like how touchy and emotional they were. As with any woman, it disturbed him with Martha. It seemed to him that her feelings for him had nothing to do with who he was, but with who she wanted him to be. She wanted a baby. She wanted a sweet little boy to pamper and babysit. Women had the strange habit of closing their eyes to the bad qualities they saw in men. Husbands, brothers, sons. And because of this selective blindness, Alexander has not cared for women in his life since his mother died. He didn't have to earn their love because they felt the need to give it.And since he didn't have to strive for that love, it naturally had no value for him.

Since his mother died, nothing had come easy or for free. 

The price for comfort after a nightmare at the Stevens house was rough fucking into the mattress to the unconscious. 

It was a high price.But everything valuable had it.

He couldn't help himself with his own conviction about it. Martha's attention, imposed and free, was worthless and unwanted.

Washington on the other hand...

Well. 

Something unwise and suicidal drew Alexander to him instead of Martha. To a cold posture instead of a warm smile. To natural distance instead of forced closeness. Washington was restrained and out of reach. He didn't look at Alexander as a broken child, needing love to keep from falling to pieces. He wouldn’t start a conversation. He wouldn’t touch him for no reason but the tenderness of heart. If he had any feelings towards Alexander, he carefully concealed them.

And,  fuck , it was scary not to know. Did Washington want him at all? Did he like him? Was he against accepting an orphan from the foster care system? Was he going to get rid of? Hit? Rape? Who knows. A big secret, a walking mystery Alex wanted to solve at any cost.

Washington could not be indifferent to Alexander. Hamilton could feel it in his bones. It was enough to catch the man staring at him once or twice. Or to hear his name spoken by George in his conversation with Martha. He must have wanted or planned something. 

Everyone had. 

~*~

"What are you reading?" Mr. Stevens asked, sitting next to Alex on the couch in the livingroom one week after Rachel's funeral.

"The Great Gatsby," Alexander replied, looking up from his book and straightening up on the couch.Mr. Stevens leaned over and looked over the boy's shoulder, remaining silent long enough for Alex to think he might come back to reading.

He can read for a moment, pretending not to feel Mr. Stevens's burning gaze sliding from his face down his body and back again.

I couldn’t forgive him or like him, but I saw that what he had done was, to him, entirely justified. It was all very careless and confused. They were careless people, Tom and Daisy — they smashed up things and creatures and then retreated back into their money or their vast carelessness, or whatever it was that kept them together, and let other people clean up the mess they had made.

"I remember reading this, but I was much older than you," Mr. Stevens announced, drawing Alex's attention away from the book again. "Are you sure you can understand it?"

Alexander looked up and blinked rapidly, unsure how to react to that. He understood, of course he understood. It's just a book.

"I'm sure," he replied, glancing at Mr. Stevens uncertainly. "It's not that complicated," he added, as if to explain that he wasn't trying to exalt himself, as if he thought he was smarter than Mr. Stevens was his age.

"There, there, you vain boy," Mr. Stevens laughed, and despite his playful tone, Alexander's cheeks turn violently red.He was not vain!He only said what he thought. "You are way too smart for your age." He didn't know how to read it.The words felt like a compliment, but they also sounded weirdly like a rebuke. "Maybe I'll find you some interesting, wise books that will definitely not be below your level, huh?"

A day later, he found in his room several books he had not seen before.The gesture initially considered nice by him on the first pages of "Little Birds" chilled Alex's blood in his veins. 

He put all the books given to him, soaked with perversion and eroticism, deep into the wardrobe, never wanting to touch them again. Mr. Stevens was not happy about this.

"Didn't you like my gift, Alex?"

The boy jumped in surprise, dropping the clothes he had come with from the bathroom after a shower, when suddenly he heard the voice of Mr. Stevens sitting on his bed. Alex's wardrobe was open, and the books that had been there so far were placed on the bedside table. “This is very ungrateful of you. Don't you think?"

"No!" he gasped immediately, frightened by the mere innuendo. “No, sir.Sorry, I didn't mean to be ungrateful, ”he assured.He bent down to gather his clothes with trembling hands. As he stood up, he almost hit Mr. Stevens, who was suddenly standing next to him. “I’m- sorry.”

Mr. Stevens stayed quiet for a while, staring down at Alexander. 

Then he closed the door. 

"You didn't mean?" He raised his eyebrows skeptically with a smile. "Did you try to read them at least?"

"I tried!" he assured eagerly. "I started, but ... I-I guess I'm just not smart enough to understand."

The widening smile on Mr. Stevens' face gave Alexander a feeling that he had given the correct answer.

"It turned out to be a good lesson in humility, don't you think?" he asked laughing. He reached out to Alex and stroked his hair caressingly. “Good boy, Alex.”

He was close to crying. Out of fear. With relief. He didn't know himself. He was just happy he wasn't in trouble and Mr. Stevens wasn't mad at him. 

"Now, now," Mr. Stevens cooed, bringing his hand from Alex's hair to his face to stroke it gently. Only the movement of Mr. Stevens' fingers on Alex's cheek made him aware of the tears on them. “Easy there. Did you brush your teeth? So let's put you to sleep." He gently pushed Alex towards the bed and removed the covers so Alexander could lie down on the mattress.

To Alex's surprise, instead of just covering him with a duvet, Mr. Stevens sat on the edge of the bed, took off his shoes, and lay down next to Alex. 

Hamilton's heart beat faster.

"We'll read together," Mr. Stevens announced, reaching for the copy of “Lolita” at top of the stack. "Maybe you'll manage to understand that way."

And he started reading.

_ „Lolita, light of my life, fire of my loins. My sin, my soul. Lo-lee-ta: the tip of the tongue taking a trip of three steps down the palate to tap, at three, on the teeth. Lo. Lee. Ta. She was Lo, plain Lo, in the morning, standing four feet ten in one sock. She was Lola in slacks. She was Dolly at school. She was Dolores on the dotted line. But in my arms she was always...” _

He paused.

“ _ Alexander _ .”

A shiver of pure terror runs down Alex's spine.

~*~

"You haven't torn off this book since this morning," Alex heard from the salon doorway. "What is this book?"

Washington strode into the room, briefcase still in hand. He must’ve just got back from the office. He put the briefcase on the dining room table and sat down in the armchair, loosening his tie. 

Alexander watched the man's every move carefully, ready for any turn of events. His fingers tightened on the book until his knuckles turned white.

"A portrait of Dorian Gray," said Alex strainedly, waiting for a reaction.Washington smiled and nodded as if he didn't have much to say about this particular book. 

"I've never read it," he finally admitted.This time it was Alex who nodded silently. ”But I’ve seen the movie. Pretty... messed up story. "

Alex's lips twitched involuntarily into a cheeky smile.

"Pretty messed up man," he replied.

"Which? The one in the book or the one who wrote it?"

"They're both actually," said Alex.Washington smiled warmer. “But Oscar Wilde was a genius. I adore him.”

"Really?" Washington raised his eyebrows. “I believe I saw some of his books in Martha's library.I'll bring you, what do you think?"

The memory hit Alex like a fist on the nose.

The whisper in his ear sounded so clear as if Stevens was right next to him again, pressing Alex tight against his body.

_I loved you. I was a pentapod monster, but I loved you. I was despicable and brutal, and turpid, and everything, mais je t’aimais, je t’aimais! And there were times when I knew how you felt, and it was hell to know it, my little one._

"No need, sir," he replied, unaware of the shallowness and speed of his own breathing. 

He could already hear Wilde's words read in Washington's voice about sex, love and passion in his ears. He stared at Washington's hands on the armrest, imagining the bruises they would leave on his thighs and hips. 

"Whatever you prefer," only Washington replied. “If anything, feel free to ask. Or take a look around, maybe you will find something that will interest you."

After these words, he stood up and headed up the stairs, giving Alexander only a slight smile.

A cramp in the stomach area Alexander misinterprets as confusion.

The confusion doesn't explain why Alex's legs led him up behind Washington and stopped him only at the man's bedroom threshold.

"Actually, I'd love to have a look," he said.Washington, clearly taken aback, turned to face him and, undoing his tie, he brought a smile back to his face.

"Fine. Go to the library, I'll change and I'll be with you right away."

Alexander did not move and did not even pretend to grant the man's request. He tilted his head slightly, biting his lip.Washington looked at him and frowned, probably analyzing Alex's demeanor and trying to unravel what his motivations might have been.

He took a step towards Alex, and before the boy could begin to regret his decision, the door was shut in his face.

All right then .

~*~

Upon his arrival at the Stevens' house, his privacy had essentially ceased to exist. He was changing clothes after returning from the emergency care when Mr. Stevens knocked and went inside to make sure he was okay. Alex assured him that he was, even if he wasn't quite honest.Stevens went in anyway and continued talking while Alex stood idle holding his shirt at waist level to cover himself. He was taking a shower when the door opened slightly and showed Mr. Stevens' head, who asked if Alex was doing well. The next time Alexander locked the door during a shower, upon leaving, he found Mr. Stevens waiting for him in the hallway to ask him not to lock the bathroom door again.

"You could slip and hurt yourself, darling," he explained, smiling pityingly. "And who will help you if I can't get in?"

If he let his imagination run wild and let his dreams take the form of a defined thought even for a moment, he might think that Mr. Stevens geniualy cared about Alex as he cared for his biological son, and maybe...  maybe he wanted nothing more than to give Alex a substitute for the real family the boy had never had. It was an unrealistically beautiful concept. Family concept. The concept of being part of it.Every tender look, touch, kiss on the head, thoughtful words, comfort, pride, warmth from Mr. Stevens was a kind of promise for Alexander that had never been made before. A promise that he is important to someone. Important enough to deserve support, family, pain relief, and warmth after twelve years of cold.

Then, one day, after a shower in a steam-filled bathroom, Alex carelessly put the cup he used to rinse his mouth after brushing his teeth, causing the vessel to fall to the floor and the glass to shatter with a crackle.

Before he could even curse, the bathroom door swings open and Mr. Stevens bursts in as if he were just waiting for an accident to intervene.

"Oh, you silly boy," he sighed, looking at the broken glass. Alex opened his mouth to apologize and assure him that he would clean up soon, but Mr. Stevens cut in."Fortunately, nothing happened. Don't move or you'll cut yourself,” he ordered, then approached Alex and effortlessly grabbed the boy under his arms, lifting him off the floor and carrying him over the broken glass. Contrary to Alexander's predictions, he did not put it on the floor as soon as they were in the corridor. On the contrary. He lifted Alexander higher and placed himself on his hip, his hands pressing high on Alexander's thighs.

The towel Alex had wrapped around after the shower now hung around his waist only thanks to the boy's reflexes. Stevens' hands were underneath it anyway.

"Here you go," he muttered, setting Alex safely on the bed. He did not break contact with Alexander's body even for a moment. “Such a clumsy boy. I said you were going to need me. Didn’t I?”

"Yes, sir," answered Alexander politely. 

"And there you are, needing me. Right?"

"Right."

Stevens smiled with satisfaction and affection.

"Right, what, Alex?"

He swallowed the lump in his throat.

"I-I... I do need you, sir.”

Stevens stared at him with something wild in his eyes for a few seconds. The smile faded from his face.

"Yes, you do."

~*~

"Don't you look handsome?" exclaimed Martha as Alexander showed up in the kitchen on the first day of September, outside of fitting at a tailor, wearing a new uniform from one of Virginia's most prestigious private schools.

"No, ma'am. I think I look stupid,” he muttered reluctantly, smoothing the fabric of his cashmere vest.

His uniform consisted of a snow-white shirt, which always had to be tucked into beige corduroy pants. A vest matched to their color, and a navy blue jacket with white elements hung casually by Alex on a chair in the dining room and a matching to jacket tie. 

"Don't be silly," replied Martha. "Just look, George!”

Alexander turns on his heel, his heart leaping in his throat at the sight of Washington entering the kitchen.A flush ran across his cheeks as he felt a man's gaze scanning his entire body in a perfectly fitted, elegant uniform in which, in his own judgment, Alexander looked more like a ken doll than a human of flesh and blood. 

He could not read much of Washington's face.

"It's very nice on you," said George, stopping in front of Alex. The boy smiled as he felt a nice warmth in his chest. "But this could be the worst knotted tie I've ever seen in my entire life," Washington added with a laugh, gesturing Alexander to come closer.

He untied a carelessly made knot and began to tie a new one with careful, slow movements. Alexander wondered if the tension in the body could lead to permanent injury. If there was such a level of tension, he must have achieved it. His blood pressure must have been well above average, and his pulse suddenly raged more than ever in his life. Washington must have felt it as he brushed a sensitive spot on his neck as he tied his tie. He had to know what he was doing to Alexander. He must have consciously aroused his sensations in him, wanting to use them later as an excuse to let him fuck Alexander when the opportunity arose. He would pull out all the situations where Alexander acted provocatively, when he didn't refuse, when he smiled too long or blushed too much. He'll have a million reasons. More than Stevens, and Stevens' reasons seemed to pour out of the bottomless well.

_ So cute. So lovely. You provoke me so bad. You swing those hips like you're just waiting for someone to pin you to the wall.That goddamn smile of yours. These blushes. Those legs. These thighs. You didn't expect me to fight this forever, did you? I can't even look at my wife when you're around .  So needy. So damn needy. Can’t do anything without me, can you? _

"You seem tense, my boy," Washington judged, stepping back a bit to evaluate his work on the tie. "Something wrong? Too tight?"

Just do it, Alexander wanted to plead.Don't make me wait, don't keep me guessing.

"No sir," he only replied politely. "It's perfect. Thank you."

Washington squeezes his shoulder briefly and offers a ride to school. Alexander agrees, thinking that being alone in the car with a man will be a good opportunity for him to show how much Alexa's fancy uniform and expensive school will cost.

Nothing happens.

When Washington takes him back to the tailor a week later, this time to try on the suit, Alexander goes with a ready-made plan in his head.

"You don't leave for a long time, are you okay?" heard George's voice outside the dressing room door and smiled victoriously. 

He made one last check that he looked right. Two pairs of pants, his black jeans and suit pants, lay unnecessary on the chair, leaving Alex's lower body clad only in black, expensive, elegant underwear carefully selected by Hamilton after his morning shower. The white shirt was only half-buttoned down just below Alex's hips, exposing his buttocks and thighs, and the black vest hung limpid, but carefully positioned to give Alexander a messy but attractive appearance.

"Yeah, I'm fine," he replied in a fully composed voice of a confused teen. "I only have a problem with the vest."

He counted down to five and...

"You need help?" Washington asked.Alexander waited a moment corresponding to hesitation and replied:

"Yeah, probably..."

It's perfect. He sounded awkward and embarrassed how would any teenager unable to dress independently sound in his shoes. Washington stepped inside, careful not to expose Alex to stares from outside.Instantly the quite spacious changing room became cramped and stuffy. 

Alexander's cheeks were covered with a layer of pink as soon as he met George's gaze scanning his posture carefully. There was nothing he could do about the rising pressure in his body. 

He turned on his heel to face the mirror, pretending to be interested in the buttons on his vest, which he couldn't control by the shaking of his hands.He could see George's unreadable face in the mirror, and the perfectly legible movement of his gaze down into Hamilton's body.

"I see you didn't get very far," the man muttered, and Alex shrugged helplessly.

"This vest is weird," said Alex."Too many buttons."

"It's double-breasted," the man explained calmly, turning Alex towards him. "It would be easier for you if you buttoned your shirt properly," he added.

With quick movements, he buttoned the nonchalantly missed buttons on Alexander's shirt, then grabbed the vest's fabric, then buttoned it up too.

Alexander held his breath, waiting tensely for the man's next move. It had to happen sometime.

"You've never worn a suit before?"Washington asked, picking up the second row of buttons. Alexander shook his head before realizing that Washington wasn't looking at his face.

"Not three-piece," he replied with a shrug. 

"I understand," replied the man. After a while, he withdrew his hands from the buttons and experimentally pulled the vest fabric at Alex's waist. "Isn't it too tight?"

"I don't think so," replied Alex. 

"Alright," Washington muttered and took a step back. Alexander frowned. "I trust you can handle the pants yourself?"

With a cheeky smile on his face, Alex leaned against the wall, giving the man a defiant look.

"They are double-breasted either?" he asked.

"I don't think so," replied Washington. "I'm beginning to wonder you had no problem undressing."

He couldn't miss this opportunity.

"Maybe next time I'll ask for help with that, too," he offered coquettishly and turned to bend down for his pants, deliberately exposing his body to Washington's eyesight.

Maybe his hearing was playing a trick on him, but he was sure that he heard Washington gasping for breath.

There it is .

He was sure it was a matter of a second or two. That in a moment he will feel big hands on his hips, which will draw him closer to the man, force him to...

" _ Alexander _ ."

_ "But in my arms always..." _

Washington left before Alex could sober up from the memory that struck him.

When he came out to show fully dressed, the suit pants were tight at the crotch, but he didn't say a word.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tw // rape mentioned, underage sex mentioned, corporal punishment

"How was school, boys?"

Alexander closed the front door behind him and set the backpack on the ground so he could take off his sweatshirt.Winters may not have been particularly cold on St. Kittis and Nevis, but enough for someone used to the heat of the year.

"Cool," replied Ned, standing at the kitchen table where his father was sitting."Alex found himself a girlfriend."

In that very second Alexander forgot how to breathe.

Mr. Stevens' gaze almost gave him a heart attack.

"Not true!" he replied in a voice so panicked that Neddy for a moment seemed to hesitate to continue the mockery.

To Alexander's utter horror, the hesitation passed quickly.

"Yes it is!" Ned exclaimed, smiling maliciously, "She has been staring at him all day. And she wrote a note!"

"She didn't!" Alex replied, trembling with fear, he did not dare to look at Mr. Stevens. "Back off."

"Yes, she did!"Neddy snorted, and before Alexander knew he was standing over Alex's backpack, pressing his hand into it, "Here it is!"

"Leave it!" he shouted, lunging at Neddy, wanting to rip his backpack out of him."Neddy! Leave it, it's mine!" he insisted, pleading almost with tears in his eyes."Neddy, please!" 

He jerked at his backpack, expecting more resistance from Neddy, but he easily dropped the pack from his hands, causing Alexander to lose his balance and crash into a chest of drawers behind his back.

"Boys!" Mr. Stevens screamed in tandem with the noise of the falling photos.

Alexander's breathing grew shallow and rapid.

Anger hit his head and suppressed panic when he saw a piece of paper in Neddy's hands.

"Dear Alex," he began reading, then paused to burst out laughing as Alexander lunged at him to retrieve the note. 

"Stop it!" Alex shouted as he fought Neddy's pushing arm. The other boy didn't bother, still trying to read, which was interrupted by Alex's hands desperately wanting to tear the note away.

In a scuffle, they bumped into the bookcase, causing several books stacked closer to the edge to fall. Alex managed with both hands to grasp the wrist of the hand in which Neddy was holding the note. He pulled it away from his friend's face, stopping him from reading any further, but still wasn't even close to getting the paper back. 

Surely Neddy would have managed to hold back Alexander's resistance sooner or later, but before that happened, another, much larger hand gripped Alex's clothes and jerked the fighting boys away from each other. 

"Calm down right now," he hissed. He let go of Neddy's clothes, but the hand on his wrist tightened more before he let it go. "Edward, take Alex to my bedroom. I'll be right there."

Alex couldn't catch his breath. He felt light-headed. His knees felt like cotton wool.

"Come on, Alex," Neddy ordered suddenly in a soft voice. He grabbed his friend's hand gently and dragged him toward the stairs. Hamilton's legs moved almost without his will. Moments later he was sitting on Mr. Stevens' bed. "Hey, take it easy," Ned whispered, apparently noticing the panic filling Alex. “He's just gonna give us spanks. Nothing bad. You will get no more than ten, I started it. Don’t be afraid."

But he didn't understand anything.

He couldn't see the flash of fury in his father's eyes.

He couldn't have known that knocked down objects and a scuffle would not be Mr. Stevens’ reasons to punish Alex.

He couldn't know why talking about the girl interested in Alex made the boy so terrified.

He couldn't know what his father was .

"Ned, you go first," Mr. Stevens announced, unbuttoning his waistband. "Stand by the window, Alexander, I'll take care of you soon."

He spanked Neddy as if he had a conservative parenting textbook in front of his face. He ordered him to tell what he was being punished for. He reported that he would be hit with the belt ten times.Alexander had his back to the room with his face turned to the window so he couldn't see what was happening. He watched the birds sitting on the phone line and tried not to jump in fear every time he heard the leather strap slam against Neddy's body. 

"Now," Mr. Stevens muttered after the tenth hit. “Everything is forgiven. You can go to your room, Ned."

There was a moment of silence.

"But... Alex..."

"To your room, Ned," Mr. Stevens repeated sharply. "No discussion."

There was a sound of doors opening and closing. Then heavier steps and turning the key in the lock.

A few tears run down Alex's cheeks.

"Come on," ordered Mr. Stevens.Alexander obediently stood in front of the man. “There is nothing to cry about yet.Take off your pants."

Alex couldn't remember Ned getting the same instructions, but he didn't argue.obediently he pulled off his pants and set them on the bed.

"Underwear too."

A sense of disgusting humiliation burns Alex's cheeks as if hot iron had been pressed against them. He took off his boxers and put them on his pants. He stared at the floor as he fought more tears that pressed into his eyes.

For a moment, Mr. Stevens didn't do anything, keeping Alexander painfully uncertain. Then a hand suddenly reached his hip and pulled him towards the man, pushing him onto his lap.

There is no warning before the belt hits Alex's buttocks with brute force. The scream of pure agony was muffled by the hand wrapped around his mouth. 

He didn't know how many blows he had taken, but it was certainly not ten. There was not a second of relief. If Mr. Stevens stopped between blows it was only to put the belt on Alexander's back like a piece of furniture and instead grab a full handful of the boy's burning buttocks, squeeze them and yank them as brutally as he had struck before. Then he was grabbing his belt again and punched again, until Alexander was completely out of touch with reality and everything around him except the crippling pain.

Eventually the belt was thrown to the floor.The next strike came from Mr. Stevens's hand. One by one, several times to the same places.Alexander writhed in pain, struggling with all his strength to free himself from these bestial attacks. All semblance of discipline has vanished. All that's left is pure soot. Eventually the blows stopped, but the pain was so great that Alexander barely felt the difference. Only a sharp pull on his hair made him aware of taking Mr. Stevens's hand from his buttocks.

"I don't ever want to hear about any girl again, can you hear me?" Stevens hissed.The hand over Alexander's mouth didn't disappear, but Stevens's fingers dug brutally into the skin on the boy's face."Answer me," he ordered, tugging his face closer to him.

Choking on his own shock, Alexander nodded desperately. His whole face was wet with tears, as if he had just taken it out of a bowl of water. 

Mr. Stevens pushed him off his lap, but didn't let go.

Somehow he didn’t feel hard place in Mr. Stevens pants when the man grabbed Alex and pressed his naked body close to his. He wasn’t able to move, he barely could breathe as he felt sudden move. Mr. Stevens pushed his hips, rubbing his groin in Alex’s body. And again. And again. Hard, loud breath was the only thing Alex could hear in that second, evens his own begging to stop and to let him go didn’t manage to fill Alexander’s ears. It was all Stevens. 

Mr. Stevens hand suddenly grabbed Alexander’s groin and squeezed it painfully with not illusion of making Alexander feel good. It was only to pull Alexander closer and give Stevens better angle to rub himself to orgasm. His other hand was put on Alexander’s mouth to silence his cries for help. 

Then everything stopped. Stevens stopped his moves, but didn’t let go of Alexander until next ten seconds. Mr. Stevens threw him to the floor as if in disgust. Alex dropped to his hands and knees at the last minute before hitting his face to the floor. He wanted to run away, but he didn’t even manage to stand up.

"Don't you dare," Stevens hissed furiously. "Don't you even dare to move, Alexander, or I swear..."

He didn't need the end of that sentence.He didn't even flinch, trying not to choke on his own saliva.

Then he felt hand grabbing his hair and forcing him into kneeling position. 

“Stay like that,” told him Stevens. “One move or sound and you’ll get into the same grave as your mother. You hear me?”

Alex didn’t answer. He didn’t think he has ever been so frightened for his life. 

He heard Mr. Stevens walking around him. As if he was a predator preparing to attack his prey.

The next time Mr. Stevens' hands were on his body, they were as soft as if they had never touched the belt before. They lifted Alex and pressed tenderly against the man's body, and Alexander allowed himself a loud sob of relief. He wrapped his arms around the man's neck and his legs around his waist, wanting to be as close as possible.

"Here it is," Stevens whispered, stroking Alex's head. “My good boy, you did so well. You were so brave, Alex, so polite. So good. Good boy. My good, beautiful boy."

Later that day, Alexander overheard Mr. Stevens talking on the phone and mentioning his name. He said that Alexander was still in poor condition after his mother died, and it had better that his emotional weakness should not be taken advantage of by any students.

Hardly anyone talks to Alex at school after this day.

~*~

Alex knows how strong an aphrodisiac jealousy is.

Therefore, after only a month of schooling, he brings a boy home.

He doesn't really care about him. He doesn't even care about the name. It was enough for him to know that a guy liked guys, especially easy-to-fuck, pretty guys that Alexander could easily belong to for the needs of that one night.

"You said they wouldn't be back for the night," the guy hissed, dressing desperately quickly when they heard the voice of the door swing open from downstairs.

"I thought so," Alexander lied smoothly, feigning fear, while he worried more than interrupted sex if his hair fell in the correct messy but not sloppy manner.

"Fuck," that guy gasped, quickly pulling on his pants. "How fucked up am I?"

"Not really," Alex assured. "Just leave now."

On the threshold, the boy passes Washington. He runs away before the man has managed to comment on his presence, leaving Alex alone with his foster father.

"Christ," Hamilton heard George's sharp whisper just before the man stepped inside. "Alexander. Can you tell me, for God's sake...?"

He broke off as his gaze fell on Alex. He sat fully naked on his bed, without even lifting a finger to put on any clothes. He knew his cheeks were hot and his lips red and puffy. Only a white quilt casually wrapped around his hips shielded anything from Washington's eyes.

Washington was silent for a moment.

“Get dressed and go downstairs. I'm waiting in my office,” he ordered and left the room.

Furiously, Alexander threw back the covers and sprang out of bed. Rage bubbled through his veins like boiling water in a kettle. Nothing made sense at this point. 

He pulled on his boxer shorts, a random sweatshirt, and ran downstairs after Washington. Martha was not with him.She was not supposed to come back from work until late evening. So what the hell was holding this coward back?

"I told you to get dressed," Washington announced sternly as Alex walked to his office.

"I did," replied Alex just as rudely. "What is with you?"

"Sit down, Alex," George ordered, but continued after a moment when Hamilton didn't even flinch. "I understand that you are at the age when..."

"Stop it," Alex ordered sharply. "Stop it.I don't want to hear this, I don't care about your safe sex talk!"

"Alexander..."

"What do you want from me?" he gasped with tears in his eyes staring at the man."What the fuck do you want from me? Whatever it is, just take it. Do what you want, but don't act like you..."

"Like what?" Washington asked, but Hamilton didn't answer. He was trembling all over his body. After a moment, the man sighed and shook his head. "Go to your room," he commanded and rose from his desk. He walked over to the exit. "I'm tired. We will talk when you’ll calm down."

He walked over to Alex, stopping in front of him as if to let the boy pass through the door, but Hamilton had nothing to lose at this point. 

He tightened his hands on Washington's shirt, climbed on his toes and kissed him. So much emotion, from disgust to excitement, suddenly exploded beneath his skin that he wouldn't have been surprised if it began to tear under their pressure. It wasn't good, it wasn't bad, but it was familiar. None of the previously proposed by Washington relationshipscould give him the sense of stability that demotion to a sex toy of an older, more powerful man.

He wrapped his hands around Washington's neck and pressed his body against his, not wanting to wait for a reaction. He couldn't chick out. Not this time. How more explicit consent could he expect?

Washington's first move after Alex arranged a kiss was to grab the boy's arms.

And pushing him away.

"What ...," he began in a sharp, tense voice, " _ the hell _ are you doing?"

Without the slightest effort, he tore Alex's hands off him and walked back to his desk as if to provide a material barrier between himself and Hamilton. Unnecessarily, because Alex didn't even think about moving. He stayed where Washington left him, breathing heavily. 

"I don't understand," he said softly, suddenly feeling so disgusting weak and helpless as he hadn't felt in years.

"What exactly do you not understand, Alexander?" Washington asked. For some reason, he didn't sound furious. Alex didn't know what to think. Or answer. "Christ," he muttered under his breath, looking away from Alex. 

"I don't know what I did to get you such an idea, Alex, but I assure you... that I would never look like this at someone your age...  _ especially _ not at the child I am taking under my roof."

"I don't understand," repeated Alexander, turning to the man. The scales of victory between him and the tears pressing down to his eyes began to tilt faster and faster to the side of tears.

"Alexander." He looked down, feeling his back tremble. “I want absolutely nothing from you. Nothing but giving you a safe home and the opportunity to grow as happy as possible."

He shook his head.

"I don't believe you," Alex whispered. The first tears ran down his cheeks.

Washington was silent.

"I'm sorry," he said, sounding surprisingly sincere. "I'm sorry for whatever happened that made you think otherwise."

~*~

He feels his hands on himself at night.Disgustingly familiar hands grab him violently, tear him out of his sleep, drag him into the fulfillment of their sick, sexual fantasies. He's a kid again. He's innocent again. Untouched. Not for long.

He screams. He's tearing his lungs open, begging for help. His hands on his body strip him of everything. From clothes to innocence to happiness.

" Alexander ."

He hates that word. He chokes on saying his own name because he always hears it the same. He no longer owns anything. He has no body of his own, no name, no past, no present, no future,  nothing .

He doesn't belong to himself anymore. He belongs to these hands.

To all hands, whenever they touch him. 

Now he belongs to Washington.

Even if Washington doesn't want him.

Seeing his face after opening his eyes kills Alexander. Hands continue to run over his body, appropriating and marking it. He would never belong to himself again. Washington had to understand, and God, Alexander would like to turn back time. He would like to keep the man in the dark if that was to give him even a temporary sense of autonomy.

"Please," he whispered. "Please don’t. I am begging you, please. I'll be good. I'll be better. Please, I don't want to. Don’t touch me. Take your hands, don't touch, don't touch me!"

He was on fire. His hands burned like hot iron.

" _Alexander_." 

He opened his eyes and looked at Washington.

"I’m not touching you.”

_Oh_. 

He wasn’t. 

The clock in the living room read 2:42 AM when Washington slipped a cup of warm cocoa into his hands and sat down next to him at dining-room table.

"There was nothing in your file about sexual harassment," he admitted gently.Alex nodded.

“It was still at St.Kitts and Nevis, ”he said. He took a sip of cocoa."Documentation from there was destroyed by a hurricane."

"How old were you?”

"Thirteen, when it started. Fourteen, when he went to jail."

"How did _that_ happen?" Washington asked softly.

"I told my social worker," Alex replied."After he raped me a second time."

Washington did not make himself known if the word from Alexander made any impression on him. 

"You must have been very brave," he said instead. "Few people much older and less hurt are able to confront their abuser."

Alexander closed his eyes.

"Are you going to get rid of me?"

He didn't feel brave at this point.He never felt brave. It seemed to him that all that was left of Mr. Stevens in him was burning the hate inside him. He was neither stronger, nor wiser, nor more courageous.Just twisted. Suffering. Wrong.

It would be easy to pretend it would get better. That his conviction of his own lack of value will gradually fade away. That he will learn to live with someone and accept his goodness as unconditional. But that would only be pretending.

He could only hate. Hating Stevens for never having a father because of him. He will never be happy. Washington may have been the perfect father, but he would never be even your average son. He couldn't be a son. 

He couldn't even be human anymore. 

"I'm going to help you."


End file.
